Culinaria: The sugary secrets of rhubarb

In the midst of February there is not too much fruit. Of course there are still plenty of apples. Stored correctly, they'll be about for another few months. The apples we are using in Aniar at the moment come from Waterford. They're organic and come from Beechlawn Farm. But it's not apples that I'd like to discuss today. It's rhubarb.

Most fruits do not take well to being forced to reveal their sugary secrets before the warmer weather in April. Rhubarb is different. Over the winter months, from December to March, forced rhubarb is in season. Though technically speaking it’s out of season, the forced variety sings with a rosy sweetness that would make any cook dispel the gloomy grey clouds and rain. Depriving rhubarb of light makes the stems shoot upwards. They search for light, stretching themselves.

This makes for a more succulent-tasting fruit to fill your early spring pie. Unlike outdoor grown stalks, forced rhubarb has a gentle sourness and needs very little cooking. Though it does need a touch of sweetness to lift it to the right heights. Rhubarb pairs well with game, some of which can still be had into the early weeks of March.

Mallard, a species of wild duck, is beautiful with lightly poached rhubarb. Venison, too, is great with a little rhubarb compote. I know a venison sausage sandwich sounds a bit extravagant but try it with a little rhubarb jam and some yoghurt. Just think of the yoghurt as a replacement for mayonnaise. Try this combination in a soft rye roll.

Mackerel is another ingenious pairing for forced rhubarb. All you need is a blowtorch. Poach rhubarb strips in a simple syrup. Cut the middle bone out of the mackerel and cut each fillet into two. Blowtorch the skin side until nicely crisp. Season with a little sea salt. Serve with strips of rhubarb, some yoghurt, thinly sliced radishes and their leaves.